place, a sacred room in which the household gods were to be worshiped. I saw also that there was every variety of church on the shores; the prevailing color being white. Many private houses, however, were of a soft gray and of a sepia tint. During the latter part of the journey, the clouds came down upon us, and we became perfectly wet. But with the agreeable Miss Lynch and Mr. Downing it was an easy thing to preserve sunshine in temper and in conversation.

After a sail of between three and four hours, we landed at the little town of Newburgh, where Mr. Downing's carriage awaited to convey us up the hills to a beautiful villa of sepia-colored sandstone, with two small projecting towers, surrounded by a park: lying high and open, it has a free view over the beautiful river and its shores. A delicate, pretty little woman met us at the door of the house, embraced Mr. Downing, and cordially welcomed his guests. This was Mrs. Downing. She seemed to be of a bird-like nature; and we shall get on and twitter together charmingly, because I too have something of that nature about me.

The Astor House and its splendid rooms, and social life and the "New World" steamer, with all its finery, were good specimens of the showy side of the life of the New World; and Mr. Downing said that it was quite as well that I should at once have seen something of it, that I might the better be able to form an opinion of the other side of life here of that which belongs to the inward, more refined, peculiar, individual development. And I could not easily have a better specimen of this than in Mr. Downing himself and his home. He has built his house himself. It was himself who planted all the trees and flowers around it; and every thing seems to me to bear the stamp of a refined and earnest mind. It stands in the midst of romantic scenery, shadowy pathways, the prettiest little bits of detail and splendid views. Every thing

has been done with design-nothing by guess, nothing with formality. A soul has here felt, thought, arranged. Within the house there prevails a certain darkness of tone: all the wood-work of the furniture is brown; the daylight even is dusk, yet nevertheless clear, or, more properly, full of light-a sort of imprisoned sunshine, something warm and deep; it seemed to me like a reflection of the man's own brown eyes. In the forms, the furniture, and the arrangement prevails the finest taste; every thing is noble and quiet, and every thing equally comfortable as it is tasteful. The only things which are brilliant in the rooms are the beautiful flowers in lovely vases and baskets. For the rest, there are books, busts, and some pictures. Above small book-cases, in the form of Gothic windows, in the walls of Mr. Downing's parlor, stand busts of Linnæus, Franklin, Newton, and many other heroes of natural science. One sees in this habitation a decided and thorough individuality of character, which has impressed itself on all that surrounds it. And in this way ought every one to form himself and his own world. One feels here Mr. Downing's motto, "Il buono è el bello." In food, in fruits, as well as in many small things, prevails a certain amount of luxury, but which does not make any outward show; it exists, as it were, concealed in the inward richness and exquisite selection of the thing itself. I did not expect to have met with this kind of home in the young New World.

Since I have been here, it has rained and blown incessantly, and I am quite appalled at the climate. It could hardly be worse with us in October. But not the less happy do I esteem myself for having come to so good a home. My room is in the upper story, and has a magnificent view over the Hudson and the hills on the other side of the river.

I thought that I should be here, for a time at least, free from visitors. But no! Last evening, as I sat with my

friends in their peaceful parlor, there came, amid the darkness, the storm, and the rain, Professor Hart, the editor of Sartain's "Union Magazine," in Philadelphia, who immediately, on the announcement of my arrival in the newspapers, had traveled from Philadelphia to New York, and from New York had followed me hither, merely, he said, to "monopolize" me for his magazine, begging me to write for it, and for none other, during my visit to America. So much for American enterprise in matters of business. For the rest, there was so much gentlemanly refinement in his manner, and a something so benevolently good and agreeable in his pale, delicate countenance, that I could not help taking a fancy to him, and giving him my word that if I should write any thing for publication in America I would leave it in his hands. But I doubt whether I shall write any thing here: here I have need to think and to learn.

Monday, the 8th of October. To-day the sun shines above the lordly Hudson, which flows at my feet; and I should feel myself happy with my thoughts and my American books, were not the stream of visitors again in motion, taking up my time and my attention. I must beg of the Downings to defend my forenoon hours, and during them not to allow me to be called from my cage; if not, I shall become a savage lion, instead of a tame lioness, as they would have me, and as is most becoming to my disposition. I feel myself particularly happy with the Downings, and I am able to learn very much from Mr. Downing, whose individuality of character strikes me more and There is something of a quiet melancholy in him, but he has an unusually observant glance, a critical, and rather sarcastic turn of mind, the result of a large comprehension. He is silent, but one of those silent persons from whom one seems to hear profound wisdom, though not a word is said. His mind is in a high degree receptive and discriminating, and the conversation of all is interesting

more.

to him. His wife is a charming, merry, and amiable little creature, of a highly cultivated mind, and equal to her husband.

I have to-day, at the suggestion of Mr. Downing, written to Professor Bergfalk to invite him hither. Professor Bergfalk is at this time at Poughkeepsie, a few Swedish miles up the country, where he is perfecting himself in the use of the English language. I consider it is a particularly fortunate thing for me to be able now and then, during my stay here in this country, to meet and to converse with Bergfalk; and I wish him to make Mr. Downing's acquaintance, and for Mr. Downing to become acquainted with Bergfalk, that he may know how interesting a Swedish learned man can be.

Now receive a large, cordial embrace across the great ocean for mamma and you!

P.S.-I must tell you that among my invitations is one to a wedding in the neighborhood. I shall gladly accept it. I like to see brides and weddings.

In my next letter I shall speak of my plans and of my route for the future: at present they are not wholly decided; further than that I wish to spend the winter in Boston-the American Athens-and there, as far as I can, come to a knowledge of the intellectual movements in the life of the New World. In the first place, it is a good thing for me to spend about three weeks with the Downings, and to make excursions with them to some of their friends on the Hudson-"some of the best people in the country," as they say. Among these is Washington Irving, who, together with Fennimore Cooper, was the first who made us in Sweden somewhat at home in America. Sedgwick is expected here in a few days. I shall be glad to see her, and thank her for the pleasure we have had in her "Redwood" and "Hope Leslie." If I could only have a little time for myself! The difficulty to me is to be able to receive all the kind people who hasten to me from far

Miss

and near, from different states and towns. But although I can but imperfectly respond to their good-will, yet I am not the less heartily grateful for it; and never shall I forget how, on the very first day of my arrival in New York, more than half a dozen homes were opened to me, where I might have been received as guest and member of the family; and the number of these homes increase daily. I have even had invitations from Quakers. Would that J could have accepted one fifth of these!

LETTER III.

On the Hudson, October 11th, 1849. MY DEAR HEART!-We went to the wedding at nine o'clock in the morning. We drove to the house of the bride in pouring rain. All the guests, about a hundred in number, were already assembled. The bride's father, an eiderly gentleman of a remarkably agreeable appearance, offered me his arm to lead me into the room where the marriage was to take place. It was the only daughter of the house who was to be married. The elder sister had been dead about a year, and that the mother still grieved for her loss might be seen by her pale, sorrowful countenance. The wedding company was very silent. One might rather have believed one's self in a house of mourning than at a joyful festival. And as the eldest daughter had died soon after her marriage, and in consequence of it, namely, when she was about to become a mother, it was not without cause that this festival was regarded with serious thoughts.

Ladies and gentlemen were introduced to me one after another, and then again the whole circle became silent. Presently it was whispered round that the marriage ceremony was about to commence. A door opened, and a young gentleman entered, leading in a young lady in her